


I Should Tell You

by SoraMJigen



Category: Actor RPF, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Books, Confessions, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dancing, Dating, Developing Relationship, Dinner, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff, I Love You, Independence, Literature, Lord Byron - Freeform, Los Angeles, Love, Love Confessions, Love Poems, Luxury, Poetry, Reader-Insert, References to Shakespeare, Relationship(s), Romance, Romantic Fluff, Secrets, Sleeping Together
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-23
Updated: 2015-10-12
Packaged: 2018-03-25 09:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3804988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraMJigen/pseuds/SoraMJigen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Confessions are never easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. One in the Same

**Author's Note:**

> You know the drill, you see this: (___), it means imagine your name is there.

“Listen, there’s something I have to tell you. We’ve only been going out for a few months, but I….I think I love you. No, no, that’s not right!“

Taking a deep breath, you noticed your cheeks had turned a rather deep shade of red. You tried to rid yourself of the color by swallowing hard, attempting to shoo away any thoughts of your date who would be arriving at any minute. You couldn’t help it as your mind pieced together a dream you had had of the man last night. You had stumbled upon his mansion made possible by his line of work and while trying to remember the way to the bathroom you stumbled upon him. Sleeping with his chest bared and feet out, you smiled softly, wanting to go in and plant a kiss on his cheek. Yet for some reason, your dream diverted you to explore the rest of his house. Only when you returned you saw he had awoken and grinned, as though knowing you were in his residence the entire time.

“Look, I need to get this off my chest. I love you. Gah! Why can’t I get this right?!”

You had been dating the man for a few months and you knew not to rush love or a relationship. Love came when it so desired and often made itself known like a diva. You had been anticipating the day that love would bless you, but you knew to be patient. As you practiced your confession trying to master the powerful emotion coursing through your veins, you knew what you spoke was true. That this was love and nothing could tell you otherwise. It was warm, like hot honey dripping from a spoon into a soothing cup of tea. You could feel it filling you to the brim and transforming your heart into a prisoner, rattling against its cage. Even your hands grew sweaty from the warmth immersing you from the inside out. 

“H-hey,” great, now you were stammering like your heart. Gritting your teeth in frustration, you could feel your spine tingling in a way that reminded you of how your date kissed you. It was soft some days, but it was just enough to make your head swim. Other days it was passionate, like an unleashed lion and you wanted it. Swallowing hard, you locked eyes with yourself in the mirror. 

Tonight was the night for him to know about it. Fear bubbled in your brain with the idea that he may reject your love or feel as though you were rushing. Eyes widening, you knew that by now if the man wasn’t interested in you, he would have informed you. But after a few months of dating, you were more than certain that he would continue to be by your side; but for how long? The idea of him being chased away by your mere emotions made you breathless with concern. The last thing you ever wanted to do was scare him away; the mere idea stabbed you and stopped your heart for one second. 

“I-I…I…love-,” the doorbell broke you from your rehearsal and you jumped so high, you swore the ceiling gave you a concussion. 

Rushing to the door, your whole body instantly stopped. Shaking fingers slowly reached for the knob and you suddenly felt as though you were trapped in a horror film, not wanting to know what lied behind the door. Yet you had to open it to face your future and fate. You couldn’t keep the man nor yourself waiting as you swung open the door to reveal a rather gorgeous man. 

“H-hey Tom,” at the door stood a slender man with ebony curls resting above his fair flesh.

It was amazing how you two met. He was in Los Angeles working on another movie and you so happened to be the one bagging his groceries at the local market. Naturally, he was in disguise but you could tell those piercing blue eyes from anywhere. You memorized “Thor” only for his parts and of course you watched his other films and plays. You swooned at his mere role of Loki, dominating the SDCC stage, and exerting his power in the “Avengers”. It was something that shook your bones like tacks in a glass jar and it made you fall so hard in love that you could barely stand.

When he saw you putting his groceries in bags, he stopped you and offered to help you. At first you denied it, knowing you could handle it on your own and knowing how gentlemanly the secret customer was. As you lifted heavy cases of water and soda, the man insisted he take them off your hands. A lady such as yourself should never lift such objects and you allowed him to load his cart with the heavy items. Your boss was watching you warily not too far away only to lock eyes with the man who had so willingly wanted to assist you. Without a word, your manager’s eyes widened in astonishment before grinning like a wolf who had found their prey. You were blushing so deeply you didn’t even notice the gentleman slip his phone number into your hand.

God, you were so glad you made that call. 

His voice was what won you over the most despite his dashingly handsome looks and how he always dressed nicely, regardless if it was for book reading or a simple dinner date. He stood before you, an indigo suit exposing his every curve and descent, matching your powder blue dress. 

“Hello, (___),” leaning in, he kissed your forehead and your blush ran into your hair as a smile stretched across your face.

“Ready for dinner? I made reservations at the Tangerine Spine.”

“Oh Tom, you remembered! I always wanted to go there!”

“Well of course my dear, how could I forget? A fine dining experience coupled with poetry reading from different artists. I believe you will enjoy it.”

“Is it anyone we know?”

“Possibly,” he flashed that daredevil grin, as though he was hiding something and it made your head swim.

It was hard to believe that you were dating Tom Hiddleston. You had possessed every woman and man’s dream partner and you wouldn’t want it any other way. You hadn’t lived with each other yet, despite Tom’s insistence on you rooming with him in his luxurious flat. But by now he understood that you refused to live with him, allowing him to carry you like the princess he saw you as. You were an independent woman who could survive on her own until she found something full time and suitable for living in a flat and paying half of the rent or whatever you and Tom would decide. Tom understood this and found it noble that you stayed true to your beliefs and yourself. He accepted your reasoning, but offered to be there for you should you needed him for any financial assistance. As of now, you didn’t anything. You were perfectly comfortable with your situation: early twenties, still living with your parents who were barely at the house in LA. You didn’t require any luxury in life, having lived in a suburbanite lifestyle since you were a child and class meant nothing to you, even when people threw it in your face. Materials mattered not to you in life as long as you had love and the basic essentials of a house, warmth, and food.

Offering his arm, Tom led you into the limo which took off like a carriage in the night. It didn’t take long for you to reach the Tangerine Spine. On the outside it looked like a library which made your eyes widen with elation. Tangerine tapestries trimmed with tassels bore the establishment’s name in gold cursive as Victorian street lamps lit up the cobblestone pathway. Even the night itself seemed to glow with a soft orange as a tangerine moon rested like a still life object on an ebony table cloth dotted with diamonds.

Your heart was pounding even louder now, the sound ringing in your ears and reminding you of your goal this evening. It wouldn’t be an easy feat to accomplish, but it would be done before the night was done and you were asleep. From the corner of your eye you watched as Tom smiled, the gentle tug of his lips pulling into an expression you adored. His smile was as simple as an apple, but more dazzling than the stars above your head. Blushing softly, you couldn’t believe how loud your heart was beating. You swore at any moment it would leap from your chest and run away, not wanting to look back. 

Upon entering the Tangerine Spine, your eyes were drawn to the large glass chandelier illuminating thousands of tomes stacked high on chestnut bookshelves. Poe, Byron, Shakespeare, and other famous authors’ names reflected on spines and met with your eyes. Tom watched as your eyes grew to the size of the moon as your heart tripled in size and silenced itself with shock. You had been to a library many times before, but you were spellbound by this place no sooner you drove by it on your way home from your first day on the job. To actually be here with Tom by your side was a dream come true. Tom allowed you to gaze at the thousands of books, your heels clicking on the ivory tiles and muffled by the tangerine carpet bearing the establishment’s logo of a book opened to a tangerine. 

“Name?”

Tom’s eyes flashed a daring green as he smirked, watching the hostess’ eyes turn a frightening shade of blue.

“As your God, I demand you eliminate the last reservation and replace it with my name.”

His voice was cool as ice, but demanding like a general of war. Tom grinned rather deviously like a fox after a good meal.

“Oh yes,” her voice almost seemed robotic.

“What is your name, sir?”

Leaning in, he whispered his ear into her ear. Shivers crept down her spine as she reached for her keyboard.

“Lord Lo-“ 

“Ah, ah,” he spoke softly, that coolness rumbling in his tones and sshing her softly. Her lips were drawn into a straight line, obeying his command. Her eyes never left him, even as he peered over her shoulder to see you still admiring the books. Returning his lethal gaze to the hostess, he smirked.

“Not so loud, my dear. We must keep this a secret. We do not want to startle the young lady.”

Nodding, the waitress looked down, eliminating a reservation that was supposed to arrive in ten minutes. No one could beat the guest before her, not with those hypnotic green eyes and eerily cool tones. Replacing the other reservation with this newcomer’s name, she confirmed it with a swift ‘enter’ key and retrieved two menus.

“I’ll be more than happy to show you to your table.”

“Excellent.”

Changing his voice to those soft warming tones of Tom, he called your name and you found yourself by his side once more. Candlelight followed you both like secondary shadows, glowing with the radiant gleam of the stars. Candelabras led the way, through biography, through creative nonfiction, through fantasy, and finally to a large room that once served as a lounge drawn back by tangerine curtains with gold tassels. A large window pane gave way to the orange moon just in the distance, nestled in the darkness of night. Before the window lied a small, polished stage with a microphone waiting to be spoken into. Candles rested on tangerine cloth tables with chestnut chairs at their sides and Tom pulled yours out for you as the hostess showed you your table. 

Thanking Tom, you took your seat as he sat across from you. Watching the waitress walk away, Tom blinked his eyes and once more they changed to that blue you so adored. In the candlelight his eyes seemed softer and once more you heard your heart thundering in your chest. Each beat was met with a repeated rhythm with the message: I love you. I love you. I love you. I love you. It pounded in your chest as you felt your cheeks warming again and your palms turning to water. You would tell him after dinner. Yes. Food and literature usually took your mind off of things and it would be best to enjoy the night before it all went wrong or right. As long as you didn’t stress eat then everything would be all right. Tom could easily discern when something was troubling you and stress eating was your one dead giveaway. 

Looking around you noticed the room only had ten filled tables which made you smile. Despite the Tangerine Spine’s size, it was a difficult venue to get a reservation for. It was a popular restaurant frequented by celebrities and wealthy fat cats. You knew you could never afford this place, regardless of how much you put away. But now you were here with your dream man and nothing could take that away from you.

“Good evening everyone and welcome to the Tangerine Spine. I am your host for this evening, Melissa. Tonight we will have readings from three various artists from the United States. Each poet and poetess will perform four works as you enjoy an appetizer, entrée, and dessert. They will begin their performances once the dishes are properly served. If you wish to meet them, please refrain until the end of the meal. Should you need anything, feel free to wave at one of our servers, they will be more than happy to serve you.”

The audience applauded Melissa as she disappeared into the establishment. Servers started to pour water into the wine glasses set on the table. 

“How did you get the reservations?”

Your voice was awestruck which made Tom smile, happy to see you were elated for this wondrous evening. 

“I had some help from a friend,” he spoke as he gently pulled your hands to the center of the table, holding them like they were made of glass and caressing the back of your palm.

“Let me guess, Robert?”

“Possibly,” he grinned that devil’s grin again and your head drowned like a rock in the ocean.

“Well next time you see that man, you tell him I said thank you.”

“Indeed I will, my dear,” raising your hand, he gently kissed it.

By now ten minutes had passed and Tom swore he heard a faint argument reverberating through the library. Ears alert, he closed his eyes and smiled to himself. He knew this would happen. You were too focused on the menu to even take note of the distant fight which relieved Tom a bit.

“Please excuse me, my dear.”

Leaving the table, the fight was silenced within a matter of minutes. With those daring green eyes Tom merely told them that there was a better restaurant across town that would be more suitable for them. Wholeheartedly agreeing with him, the couple left and the hostess watched her hypnotizer as he met with her again. Tom verbally rewarded her, praising her for doing such a good job beneath his rule, and that humans were born to rule except for you. You, his darling dearest who he loved so tenderly. You, who would soon learn his secret and would hopefully accept him as who he was. The hostess merely nodded, interested by those dazzling eyes, and when he blinked again, her eyes returned to their natural hue.

“Are you finding everything all right, sir?”

She spoke normally and he smiled softly.

“Yes, everything is simply divine, thank you.”


	2. Hello Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to use this to enhance your reading pleasure : http://www.dailymotion.com/video/xqtvw3_lord-george-gordon-byron-she-walks-in-beauty_creation
> 
> You'll see where it'll fit in. Thanks for reading and enjoy :D

Returning to his table, Tom wasn’t a fan of lying, but with his counterpart he was slowly growing adjusted to doing such a thing. Naturally, he would never lie to you. He was a doting prince – rather, Asgardian God beneath the flesh. He would do anything to see you smile and he knew that since the day you had been ranting and raving about the Tangerine Spine. He could understand why though, those thousands of tomes, the romantic candlelight, it was a perfect place for bookworms much like himself to listen to the spoken art while fine dining. You had never asked for anything from him. He knew how you were and even his counterpart adored your strength and independence.  
However, Tom was nervous beyond all reason to tell you that he and Loki were the same person. 

That he could easily tap into Loki’s many powers and make people kneel or do what he so desired. That he would flash those green eyes and cool tone and suddenly he was a mere shred of the Asgardian God and still rule over mortals. That he could easily change from Hiddleston to Loki and become his darker, more seductive counterpart. Tom wasn’t kidding when he informed interviewers that he was Loki. 

He wasn’t sure how it had happened honestly. Smirking to himself, he supposed it was true: that actors did become the character they play; look at what happened to the Joker and Heath Ledger. Ledger had transformed into the Joker in a secluded hotel room and unleashed his persona on the screen. Everyone had thought that Ledger was playing the part when in actuality, it was the Joker. Ledger had it rough though; the Joker wasn’t one to allow such dominance from a mere Hollywood actor. He fought for control over Ledger’s body until it was too much to handle. Ledger had tried to eliminate the Joker by means of drugs, but accidentally overdosed.

Tom’s spine shivered. He hoped he would never have to come to that. Though with how collected Loki was, he didn’t think that situation would ever play out. 

During his time as Loki in the Marvel movies, he felt something overcome him. Some dark, strange power from taking on the role of a fictional Asgardian God. Curious by the role he was set to play, he read into Loki’s mythology to understand the character better. The more he engaged in the part, the stronger those powers blossomed and soon they embodied him. It was a weird situation and at first, Loki wasn’t too fond of the idea of sharing a body. When there was a scene for Loki to appear, the God relished in it while fooling everyone into thinking that it was Tom merely getting into the role. 

Tom wasn’t surprised to learn that Robert could easily become Tony Stark. The two had set up get togethers where they would do nothing but engage in their characters for hours without end. No one even knew difference and that made them grin. Hemsworth was still getting used to Thor after all these years (the man still couldn’t figure out how to conjure lightening). Rogers easily took on the role of the good old Captain and Ruffalo had tapped into Bruce, but never the Hulk. Johansson was indiscernible; she always seemed to keep the Widow and her so in sync that it was hard to tell the two apart. The same applied for Barton and Renner. 

Tom sighed in defeat, he knew he couldn’t keep this secret from you any longer and that it wouldn’t be right to continue this relationship without you knowing the truth. Tom was already in a relationship of three months with you and you had to know sooner or later. He would have told you sooner, but the idea of losing you merely terrified him. You were the world to him and for you not to be in it would devastate him (as well as Loki) to the core. As he re-entered the dining lounge, he saw you surrounded by candlelight. The flickering flames brought out the color of your hair and made your dress appear as though it were made of seafoam. 

Sighing to himself, he knew he would have to tell you tonight. He figured he would tell you after dinner; it would be best not to ruin such a wonderful evening. After a few moments of placing their orders, the appetizers were served and the show began. 

The first poetess was a famous Bohemian from Florida whose poems were filled with the wonders of nature as you and Tom shared a plate of fried cucumbers. The second poet was a gardener from New Jersey whose literature spoke of the beauty of women and how they were all deities and should be treated as such. Tom whispered how you were a goddess and how he would always treat you that way as you blushed once more while eating fettuccini alfredo. He laughed softly as some of the sauce splashed onto your lips. You grinned, forcing the food into the back of your throat and wiping away the mess. When your plates were taken away, Tom excused himself once more as you awaited the final performer. 

You hoped he would return soon. You would hate it if he missed the final performer as the server presented you with only one plate of pistachio ice cream topped with fresh whipped cream. Cocking an eyebrow, you asked the waiter why he had only brought you one. It was at then he pointed to the stage and told you to watch. Uncertain of what he meant, your eyes rolled to the stage where Melissa stood once more. She bore a grin as bright as a light bulb, containing excitement just as wild and unfiltered as yours. 

“Our last performer is Tom Hiddleston, reading classic poems by Lord Byron and Shakespeare.”

Did you hear that right?

Tom now appeared on the stage, with no paper in his hand and nothing to reference. Eyes widening, the shock prevented you from clapping as you stared at your gorgeous man on a stage, the moonlight shining down on him acting as nature’s spotlight. The candlelight ignited your glow, your body now red with blush. Your heart beat quickly as you watched him stare at you through the flickering flames and smile that cunning, sexy smile. He had this planned and you didn’t even know it. 

When Tom recited Shakespeare your heart sunk into your toes. He treated every word like an infant and filled it with emotion. You had heard him read those sonnets and plays before, but tonight seemed different. Tonight was passion lying beneath the guise of daintiness; of a confession resting beneath your flesh and beating loud, thrumming in your ears, of shared smiles and passed glances, wondering what lied behind those eyes and praying that they held a heart full of admiration, of fancy dinner to say ‘I deeply love you’ and spoken words to confirm ‘I know what your heart aches for and I can give you it’, and of how the candlelight brought out intimacy in even the simplest of actions, like holding hands across the table and kissing their tender flesh.

Tom knew words won you like a prize at a carnival. How he handled words was an art in itself. Each syllable was properly enunciated or else he would feel guilty if he didn’t. Each phrase was delivered with some sort of emotion stirring inside him and keeping attendants on the edge of their seat. He was truly a God in his talent and how it made your love for him double was a feat to behold. Eating your ice cream, the flavor seemed to fade away, your focus only being Tom. Even the cream did nothing, as sweet as it was; it could not compare to the sweetness of Tom Hiddleston. So far he had read Shakespearean sonnets and Lord Byron’s ‘Love and Death’, leaving one poem left to be spoken by his fair lips. 

“For my last poem, I will read Lord Byron’s ‘She Walks in Beauty’ and dedicate it to my very own beauty, (___).”

It was a miracle you didn’t choked on your ice cream. Surprised at this, all eyes temporarily fell on you before Tom cleared his throat and spoke each word of the famous piece. Was this a declaration of love and if it was, then your heart beat tenfold, wondering if he had felt the same for you as you did him. Every word that rolled off his tongue was like magic and you were enamored, your brain knew this poem like the back of your hand, and recited the words alongside Tom’s voice. Your spine reclined into the comfort of the chair as it seemed weightless to you. The only thing that seemed to bear any weight in the room was Tom’s words, filling your head like pebbles in a pond, and you couldn’t save yourself from them. Nor did you want to. Every word was more intriguing than the last, as you surrendered your heart to the man before you.

When he finished, he returned to your table. You restrained yourself from leaping across the table and kissing him with the passion of a thousand sailors wishing to be home in their loves’ arms. As he paid for the bill, eyes roamed over to the table, wanting to meet your beloved before you left the premises. By no means was Tom irritated and knew that they were only now watching him and wanting to meet him. Had he not presented himself as the final reader, they probably wouldn’t have noticed. But time was on your side tonight, having received your receipt first before any other table. Offering you his arm once more, he led you out of the Tangerine Spine and into the darkness of night. The orange moon still hung over your heads, sparkling alongside the stars. 

Instead of automatically taking you home, you both decided to walk through the streets of the city. By now it was the late hours when the party people started to flood the roads, crowd the intersections, and loudly claim the world as theirs. But most of them vanished within the vicinity of a club, leaving the streets to strollers and those who worked too hard for money just going home from work. Cabs still dotted the roads beneath blazing building lights. 

Deciding now would be the best time, you hand slipped into his and held it tightly, scared to release him for the confession about to slip from your mouth. Standing before him, you met with Tom’s eyes as you blushed, causing him to furrow his brows in confusion. 

“Wait.”

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Listen, before we do anything, there’s something I really….really…really need to get off my chest.”

You saw worry twinkle in his eyes like the stars. By no means was this your intent and you felt your heart pang in pain. Your gripped his hand tighter as a way of reassuring him that this was nothing wrong or impure or something to be scared of. He allowed you to, his fingers resting in your clasp as your cheeks deeply descended into crimson shades.

“I…..I…I…,” you swallowed hard. 

You knew it would be hard, but not this hard. It was now or never and it would be best to spit it out now before you forgot how to breathe or crushed his hand. Looking away from his eyes, you couldn’t bear to stare into those gorgeous blue orbs. Those orbs gave way to his very passionate soul that you so desired and would give up anything just to be with. His eyes conveyed every single emotion capable, just like his voice which echoed in your head, reciting ‘She Walks in Beauty’ once more. You were his beauty, you were his queen of night, his everything, and you knew that deep down in your heart. In return, he was your world, your very night, your very universe, and nothing could take that away from you other than a simple denial of emotions. Your mind raced, hoping he wouldn’t run from the words that now tumbled from your lips.

“I love you, Tom.”

His smile turned sorrowful, causing your heart to stop beating. Your nightmare was unraveling and you suddenly released his hand. Stepping back a bit, his eyes widened as he quickly reached for your hands. Your heart jolted, pounding once more each throb was hard like a rock being thrown against your chest. Maybe you shouldn’t have said anything and allowed him to say it first or deny your emotions altogether, bottling them up like a fine wine, never to be opened. Bowing your head, you couldn’t stand to look into that sad smile as you resisted the urge to run. 

“(___), I have something to confess to you as well.”

“What…what is it?”

Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes, his warm hands melting away as cold fingers came to, capturing your delicate palms. His flesh seemed to turn a different shade of white, as white as the snow in the coldest part of the world. Those curls you so deeply adored, turned into a slicked back style you immediately recognized as your heart stopped pounding, the shock taking over your frame. Silence captured your breathing as you watched his eyes open once more to reveal startling emeralds, shimmering wildly with untamed fire. He still wore Tom’s outfit, though this was not the man you had known before. Rather, this was someone you had seen in movies and pictures; always believing he was fictional, nothing more than a creation of Marvel. But now he stood before you, fantasy breaking any grasp of reality you might have had before. 

“I am Loki.”

His cool voice broke the walls of your mind. Indeed, he was Loki. There were no special effect teams around or makeup artists to convince you otherwise. There were no cameramen filming a celebrity prank show where you would be the victim in this menagerie. Your eyes darted, wondering if anyone else had witnessed the sight before you, but thankfully no one else was there. The streets of LA held you and Loki like a picture in an imperfect frame, knowing that one of you could run from the situation at hand. Staring at him, you gazed into his eyes, wondering if the man you had still loved was somewhere within. 

“Loki….?”

“Yes, (___), I am Loki. Your beloved Tom and I are one in the same person.”

Through those glittering emeralds you saw Tom’s tender ocean orbs. Your heart remembered to pound as it echoed against your wrists and ribs. Shaking your body from the inside out, the internal organ beat as though it was about to die and you would exist no more. Your fingertips were clutched in Loki’s cold clasp as you pried your fingers away from it. Watching his eyes narrow in worry and caution, he failed to notice your fingertips slowly slide up his arm, and warmly press against his cheek. So cold was he that your mere touch made his narrowed eyes give way to surprise, having never felt such warmth from another being other than Frigga. Eyes never leaving you, he watched you examine him. Loki did exist, there was no denying that and you couldn’t even ignore the fact that he shared a body with your boyfriend. He felt your kisses, your embraces, and everything that you had done so far to Tom. While you both hadn’t breached the sexual border, it would be a fun venture to explore – the idea of satisfying two men in one body made your cheeks burn brightly, making Loki grin wickedly. 

“Are you burdened with glorious purpose?”

You smirked.

“Yes. And that purpose is to love you as Tom so dearly does. To defend you from any harm that shall come your way and to hold you without hesitation. To be by your side should you are ever in need and to kiss you as I so desire.”

Your smirk blossomed into a smile as you threw your arms around the Asgardian God. Kissing his cheek, Loki felt his cheeks warm softly before holding you tightly. Hands working their way up your body, his cold fingertips left trails of shivers which made your heart race. The fabric seemed meaningless in his hands, finding the place where your back was revealed at the top of the dress. The shivers raced down your spine, sending a pleasurable tingle that made your heart rattle like a snake’s tail. Planting a slow but gentle kiss on your cheek, Loki smirked and held you at arms’ length. Blush still smeared your cheeks, but you couldn’t help but to smile. Loki reflected your expression and pulled you close to him, kissing you deeply. 

The kiss seemed to inhabit the rest of the night, his cold lips on yours slowly transforming into Tom’s warm touch. All the warmth you had inflicted upon Loki’s frame returned now, stronger than ever as Tom held you in his slender arms. Neither one of you wanted to break such a loving kiss, allowing the night to pass you by without a care. Let the sun rise and shine down upon your bodies, drawn by the inescapable ties of love; you didn’t care. The world could end in that moment, but as long as you held onto Tom and Loki nothing else would matter. Slowly pulling away from each other, you smiled as you met with Tom’s blue orbs once more. His curls framed his fair skin as you swore a flash of green reflected in his eyes, a temporary farewell and reminder that Loki still existed within his frame and that you were not dreaming.

Offering you his arm once more, Tom led you into the lights of LA. The night was still young. You didn’t have to be in work until late tomorrow and Tom had the day off to do as he pleased. Maybe he would wait for you to come home and kiss you once more with the passion of an Asgardian God. Smiling at that idea, you allowed him to lead you into the bright boulevards and the wondrous world that unfolded at your feet.


	3. Dance of Delights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well guys you said you wanted more,so you're getting more. I don't know how long it's going to run, but let's see how far it goes. :)

Waking up the next morning you smiled, knowing that you had a few hours to sleep in before your shift started. It was another work day, but your mind wasn’t focused on the tasks of the upcoming day. Rather, it was focused on the evening prior when Tom exposed his secret that he shared his body with Loki of Jotunheim. While you two walked the streets of LA into the darkest part of the night, you hadn’t really asked any questions about the body sharing, still spellbound by the notion that someone fictional was real, and occupying your boyfriend’s body. 

Naturally, Tom wouldn’t shun you should have any questions (in fact you had several) and it would be easy to bring up in conversation. Tom was a man you could talk to about anything and easily understood. He was rational and cooperated with you to understand issues easier and to resolve them without hesitation. It was something you rather liked about Tom and rolling over in bed, you wondered what exactly it was like to share a body with another person. Loki and Tom were two different people; Tom being the doting gentleman and Loki being an evil, darkly prince. Yet how he briefly treated you last night seemed much less malicious than what the movies revealed to you. Albeit he would kiss you when he so desired, but where was the complaint in that? You smiled a little at the notion of Loki stealing a kiss from you when you least expected it. It was already sweet enough when Tom did that, but for a deity of deviousness, it was strange and new and it made your heart pound like a prisoner who wanted out. That soft smile bled into a grin and you buried your head into your pillow.

Closing your eyes, you tried to shake off the questions for now. Sleep rose, your brain desiring a few more hours of rest before you prepared for your job. Not protesting in the least bit, your body relaxed to slowing rhythm of your heart and darkness fogged your eyes. 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

In the darkness unfurled two men that made you grin. Loki to the left was clad in an ebony suit trimmed with gold and a daring green tie. Tom to the right donned a black suit with a cobalt trim and wore an ivory tie. Both extended their hands to you as a faint tune tumbled from some unseen speaker. It was soft, like the smell of sand in the summer and warm like the sun. You couldn’t put a name to the piece as it seemed to embrace you with a transparent grasp that led you to the men. Taking both their hands, they guided you into a dance you never knew and allowed the men to lead you. They were gentle in their steps, understanding that you probably did not know this specific movement. You fell into the rhythm quite easily after accidentally stepping on their feet. Tom was more forgiving than Loki who scowled like an angered wolf, though he quietly forgave you for your mortal clumsiness. 

Your heart’s pounding matched the soft notes that filled the dark void surrounding you three. It was faint, but quick against your chest. It felt like a thousand sparrows wanting to escape a human cage and you smiled, the warmth on your cheeks unfurling. Your eyes attempted to keep contact with both men, paying attention to each one and their moves, but you found that you could not do so. Their orbs of dangerous green and kindly blue sent your mind into a dizzying daze as you tried to keep up with their stares. In dancing, it was important to always lock eyes with your partner and yet here you were, trying to lock eyes with both men. They seemed to understand and aided you in your endeavor, Loki adamantly ensuring you that your eyes would always focus on him and no one else. Tom picked up on his intentions and stared at you with the warmth of a thousand exploding supernovas. Swallowing hard, you felt yourself conflicted between the icy stare of a Jotunheim and the warming gaze of a popular celebrity.

With every note, the dance escalated into a sumptuous and luscious feat of rhythm in all three bodies. The soft tones turning exotic, bringing you all close together and suddenly a battle of dominance arose. Loki snatching you away from Tom and moving in a smooth, yet mischievous manner in which you found your torsos pressed tightly to each other. You felt his palm trail along your spine, as though feeling your bones through the garment that you wore. You swore the tips of his fingers caused your hair to rise, as though the world grew cold and nothing could warm you. Gripping your hips tightly, you felt his groin roll against your lower half and your cheeks burst with redness. As you two swiftly separated from each other, Loki’s fingers tightly held onto your palm as though you were made of ice and would shatter without his presence. Locking eyes with him, your heart stopped pounding as though he had secretly frozen it. Smirking softly, the deity bared a sliver of a smile, his teeth poking through his lips like a lion that had captured the antelope.

Tom swooped in, taking you away from his darker alter ego and swept you into a waltz. A proper dance for a proper lady such as yourself and you smiled, the chill leaving your frame and your hair melding with your frame. His blue orbs seemed to encompass the Sun, making your heart blaze with admiration that you had felt for him and confessed to him the night prior. He reciprocated the emotion easily, especially with knowing that you accepted his alter ego. His hands gently held yours as though they were made of glass as his precise movements glided you across the shadows of your mind. Every so often, Tom would secretly break his gaze to look at Loki who watched you two with curiosity hiding his intent of stealing you from Tom once more. Tom, knowing what the god within could do seemed to tighten his grip on your hand and pull you close. Tom was far from Loki, not sexual or vulgar in the slightest unless you so desired it. Though you knew the man was no stranger to groove his hips and occasionally slipped the move into your waltz, causing you to blush and smile. Tom slid his hands down your frame, sending shivers along your body as you watched him with anticipation. His eyes never left yours as your hands seemed to gain a mind of their own, running up his slender arms. Your fingers pressed into his shoulders as he lifted you into the air, spinning you as though you were the walking wonder that entered his life.

From behind, Loki grabbed you once more and dipped you, your blush growing wildly as he grinned, and so this fight of two men claiming you spun wildly in your mind. A dream unraveling with every transparent note that blasted from the darkest stretches of your head. Each man having his way with you in a form of dance, not wanting to break the boundaries that you knew sooner or later would arise. There was time for love making and figuring out who exactly was on the giving or receiving end of the deed. You were used to the fanart of Tom and Loki in various positions, but never before did you believe that someday you would be involved. The mere idea made your cheeks turn a rather dark shade of scarlet and Loki grinned, knowing exactly what was on your mind. Dipping you rather abruptly, Tom saw the gleam in his eyes and immediately grasped your hand and pulled you up. Loki, sighing to himself knew what his counterpart was doing and brought you to your feet. You stood between the men, a person to be loved, desired, and admired. Each gazed at you with their unique stares, the complete opposite of the sun and moon and swallowing hard, you felt the blush slowly start to leave your face as the tune began to fade.

Note by note, the men kissed your hands and slowly parted from you. Your mind’s shadows merged with the dark shade of their suits and gradually engulfed them. Before the song came to a complete close of silence, you met their eyes once more. Tom, the gentle warmth that flared with bouts of passion and Loki, the cold, sharpness that surged with ice before the shadows swallowed them. 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Eyes opening to the obnoxious buzz of your alarm, your heart ached to return to the dream of dancing with Loki and Tom. The fight for you, the dominance, the – wait a minute. Your brow furrowed in confusion. Tom and Loki seemed to get along just fine last night. They didn’t seem to fight for control of his body, but rather they seemed to cooperate quite well bringing out Tom’s romance and Loki’s coyness. Even the many times before you and Tom went out, he seemed to get along with Loki just fine and you didn’t even know the deity existed until last night. So now then, why would they fight over you? There was nothing to be won; they both shared you equally without conflict. Would things change now that Loki was made known to your attention?

Or perhaps it was just a dream. It was a dream that was nothing more than a culmination of your ideas and imagination and shouldn’t be believed. That seemed more logical and knowing this, you took comfort in reasoning. There was no way for them to fight though you very well understood that things would be different now and that there were questions. You would have to contact Tom later today. 

Carrying out your morning routine, you noticed your mother had left early for her job with a little note informing you of pancake batter in the fridge. You knew your father was away in New York for some business excursion and while he offered you to join him, you politely declined, not wanting to miss a day of work. As you scoured the fridge for the batter and something to drink, a soft knock rapped at your door. You knew no one would be here at this hour and if your mother had left something, she would have grabbed it sooner. Curiosity wrapped you as you peered through the peephole to reveal a young teenager with a large box in his hand. Opening the door, he looked over from his phone, a dull look in his eyes.

“Are you, (_)?”

“Yes I am.” You retorted as you watched him present an electronic clipboard. Signing for the parcel, the teenager handed you the package and bid you a nice day. You hadn’t ordered anything, so the notion of receiving a package was something strange. Opening it on the kitchen table, a smile immediately bloomed onto your face as a vase of tiger lilies rested in the box with a small card.

“I count the minutes until we meet again, my beloved. From Tom/Loki.” 

You couldn’t recall how many times you read that little message to yourself. Smiling, you freed the present from its package and rested it on the counter top. Never before had flowers smelled so sweet, especially knowing they were from the ones you loved the most.


	4. Lunch With Loki

Work was another day of dullness and money making and on your lunch break your boss called you over. It was rare your boss called you over, although you had a good relationship with her. She informed you that a customer wanted to see you and ended her message with a sly wink. Blushing softly, you grinned to yourself knowing what that meant. 

Tom would have lunch with you every so often. You were given an hour lunch so you would both go someplace simple with quick service. You often ventured to the Japanese café down the street and had a filling bento box lunch with him on most days. Sometimes you would go the extra few feet just to relax at the little bakery, where they had the sweetest of scones and the tastiest of paninis. Wondering where you and Tom would go today you looked at the time before taking off to meet your beloved.

Perhaps today you would ask about Loki, the questions having already accrued in your head like bees to a hive, and buzzing about. It was a strange new experience for you and you wondered if Tom unveiled his secret to any woman prior to you. You wondered how they reacted, if they retreated in fear and retracted their love, if they found it kinky or adventurous, if it made them guilty for whatever reason. You on the other hand, found it strange, but also adventurous. You would be pleased by two men rolled into one that women adored. You had the fortunate chance of being in a relationship with a beloved mortal and a daring deity. You were possibly the luckiest person in existence and in knowing this, you grinned like the Cheshire Cat and looked up to be greeted with a man in jeans, a soft blue plaid shirt, and shades that hid those eyes you so loved. Flashing a grin, you ran to Tom and threw your arms out to embrace him and he did the same to you, kissing your crown as onlookers gawked in envy and support.

“Where shall we go today,(___)?”

He spoke your name in all the softness of a dandelion puff in a field. It was warm and inviting and you smiled, not caring really where you went as long as you were with him. However, you were in the mood for something sweet (other than Tom).

“How bout that bakery down the street?”

Offering you his arm with a nod, you took it and from behind you could feel your boss’ joyful stare resting on your back. You didn’t mind the gazes, in fact you were used to them by now. As you two walked, you told each other about your day so far of rude clients and sweet old ladies who complimented you and how his director was practically his best friend and how the script was rather excellent. He spoke secretly of the script and with every word you were drawn into the conversation. As you placed your order at the bakery, Tom was already setting up a table like he would whenever he dropped by for dinner and you were already cooking. Looking over your shoulder, you saw Tom whispering to the side and cocking an eyebrow you wondered what exactly the man was doing. Rushing over to pay for lunch, you both took your meals and sat at the neatly arranged table.

“Before we begin,” Tom spoke smoothly, unraveling his wrap from the tissue paper and setting his section to his liking.

“Loki would like to have lunch with you. So he will be taking over today. Is this all right?”

Your eyes widened as a mouthful of sandwich rendered you silent. Even so, shock possessed you and you nodded slowly, completely fine with what was to take place.

Swallowing hard, Tom leaned over and kissed your forehead before reclining into the chair. Once more you watched as Tom gave way, his soft shaded flesh fading into pale, snow white skin. Those black curls tumbled into a slicked style, but his clever grin stuck to his face exposing the coyness of the deity before you. Eyes opening sharply, those emerald daggers struck your heart and made you breathless. Dropping your sandwich, you observed the man before you in all his glory. Fanfiction or fanart could never compare to the real deal and you felt his eyes upon you. Those shimmering emeralds, you knew would never leave you, not even in your dreams. Yet, you wanted them on and in your head. Knowing only you would have the opportunity to have them as no one else did.

Loki grunted in disgust as he gazed upon the clothes that rested on his ivory frame. Feeling the cloth in his hands, he gritted his teeth in frustration. Examining the fabric, he scoffed and grumbled to himself.

“These garments are for a mere peasant, not for someone of my caliber.” His voice was like intense ice stalactites a mere inch away from crashing into the world. It was cold and it sent shivers down your spine, chilling your vertebrae and making you sit rigidly in the seat.

Sighing to himself, he closed his eyes and the plaid blue shirt and jeans shifted to a leather overcoat trimmed in gold with an emerald scarf that trailed down his chest. A dark shirt lined in a dark green hue rested on his breast while ebony slacks clung to his wiry legs. Staring at the new outfit you swore you felt your jaw drop at the mere handsomeness of this deity before you and your brain began to thank every single God that you knew of for blessing you with this opportunity. Eyes opening, Loki looked at his new outfit and smiled satisfied at his new choice of clothes.

“That’s much better.” Loki smoothed out his shirt and locked eyes with you before looking down at his wrap. Humans ate such strange things, but he was food and he was hungry.

“So…,” you started, your still spine relaxing into the seat. “How long have you been a part of Tom?”

“Since we started filming Thor, the man so deeply wanted to channel my persona that I decided it would be best if I was there. For no one could portray me other than myself.”

Nodding in understanding, you took another bite and Loki did the same, his eyes never leaving you. Clearly, the man refused to be portrayed by anyone else other than him. You smirked softly, wondering if he believed the phrase ‘if you want something done right, do it yourself’. It was something you believed in and followed through on a daily basis. Your parents had accepted your independent nature as well as that belief. It wouldn’t surprise you if Loki was the same way, needing independence from the shadow of his brother, and doing things on his own to prove his worth and identity. You couldn’t blame him and rather enjoyed a man who took initiative as opposed to being handed everything.

“Where do you go when Tom’s being…Tom?” You asked, wondering how to phrase that question without sounding awkward.

“I fade into his subconscious. I’m always there.”

Swallowing hard you blushed at how his lethal, smooth voice spoke those final three words. He grinned at your smirk, his coyness flowing through his expression and making your heart stop. The sound of your last beat echoed through your ears, feeling the warmth rush through your body like a sudden roller coaster tearing through your body with no end in sight. Your adrenaline tried to pump its way into your heart but found no avail causing your teeth to clamp onto your sandwich, reminding you that you were still alive, still breathing, and still in the presence of your deity boyfriend. 

“So um…uh…,” you fumbled for a question, your mind wracked from that damn voice of his, but you wanted to hear it more. It was a sound that you swore you only heard in erotic movies and audio readings and something about it just made your heart burst.

“Can I use my powers?” He interrupted your train of thought and continued. “Yes, but at the expense of Tom’s energy. When I used my powers, they fray away at his energy that he has consumed through the day by means of food or drink. Should I use all of his energy, then at best he will faint and require nourishment.”

“Wait then, how were you able to film the scenes where you used your powers?”

“I informed the directors of the situation and what would happen. They easily complied and we performed the scenes before Tom would collapse or feel uncomfortable.”

“Did he ever-“

“No. He never did collapse. He has quite the stamina, the same as I.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you settled into your seat and Loki smirked gently, knowing he could bring you comfort through answers. Smiling, you continued your lunch and asked him even more questions regarding his history in Asgard, what he enjoyed, what he detested, and you laughed to yourself, swearing it was just like when you met Tom all over again. You spoke endlessly of each other, asking questions and holding conversation for hours and hours. Though here you could not talk for hours and knowing this, you often checked the time so you wouldn’t miss your shift. You wished you could sit and converse with the deity until it was closing time, but when five of two struck you knew you had to immediately return to your position. Understanding this, Loki shifted to Tom once more complete with the plaid blue shirt and jeans and the two of you walked to your job, just in time for your lunch break to end.


	5. Anticipation

The rest of the day consisted of you returning home from work and making dinner for yourself. While Tom was the one who normally cooked when he came over, you enjoyed the art of preparing food especially for yourself. There was something satisfactory in making a home cooked meal for yourself and even more so the experience was rather pleasurable. Sometimes you made dinner for Tom when he came over to relax with you despite his protests and he adored your handiwork. He teased you at times at how Gordon Ramsey would be jealous of your work and you laughed, knowing you couldn’t compete with that man.

Tonight you felt like Chinese and so whipping up some fluffy fried rice, you cooked the chicken you had marinating in a spicy teriyaki sauce the night prior. Plopping in front of the television, you flicked on the appliance while beginning your dinner for one. Browsing the channels, you noticed that an “Avengers” movie marathon was on and decided to watch it with nothing better on. 

As you watched “The Avengers” you wondered how long Tom could keep up with his internal deity, Loki. You watched as the mischievous deity sulked about Earth and speak eloquently as he had before in your lunch with him. Where you once observed the emerald clad God roam about the screen in wonder, you now watched him in concern. You worried and wondered how Tom could hold up, especially when Loki tapped into his powers. He had said that Loki’s powers fed off Tom’s energy to which the man had great stamina, but worry still fogged your mind. You knew the man pushed himself to the limits when it came to doing what he loved in life, but you also knew the man had his limits and that he acknowledged them. Sometimes, he would overdo it and knowing this made you grow a tad more concerned, knowing very well that he shared his body with a deity. Tom could handle some fight scenes easily and had often pointed out who his stunt doubles were in movies, knowing how concerned you would be. You immediately recognized the doubles from what Tom told you. While this lifted the concern some, you still worried for your boyfriend. 

Tom and Loki were both articulate men in their dialect, but Tom possessed casualness in his dialogue. Loki was far more formal and spoke with a cool, calm tone like a brewing storm. It was lethal and strangely alluring, causing your heart to beat faster than before. Tom carried himself in a lackadaisical manner as to where Loki seemed to be more formal and stern, walking as though the world was in his palms and he toyed with it constantly. Knowing this, it was easy to tell them apart off screen and in reality. Plus you believed that Tom would inform you whenever he was transforming into Loki so that you would know who you were with.

As you ate your eyes never left the screen, watching Loki’s actions more than everyone else’s. To know that your boyfriend housed the deity was something grand and almost impossible. You began to wonder how many other actors who were so devoted to their roles shared their body with the star they were playing. Heath Ledger very well could have housed the Joker for all you knew and Robert Downey Jr could very well have been Tony Stark and not once would you notice the difference. Maybe Benedict Cumberbatch really was Sherlock or even Smaug – you stopped eating at the idea of Smaug flying over London to find shelter in the Himalayan mountains, far from the home of tea and the Queen. 

You laughed to yourself at the notion of Martin Freeman or Cumberbatch’s wife trying to find him only to be met with a scowling dragon in the wintry mountain range. You began to wonder who was really who in the world of devoted performers who would die for the roles they played. In a strange way it was like a game of Guess Who? without ever getting the correct answer and you wondered if Tom knew who else had a situation much like this.

As you watched the rest of the movie and finished your dinner, you decided to stay up a little. Fishing out a notebook and pen, you would write any questions that would surface in your head. Video games usually made you think. You knew more questions would emerge over time about the current state of Tom and Loki. Tossing Bayonetta into the console, you leaned back and waited for the questions to come.

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“I want to see her again.” Loki snapped, his voice tearing through Tom’s list as he reclined in his study re-reading “Macbeth” for the billionth time.

“Well, I don’t see a problem with that. Would you like to see her in a few days?” Tom quietly asked, his eyes never leaving the book pages.

“Why can we not see her tomorrow?”

“Because we’re in a relationship and any good relationship includes giving your partner some space. Suffocation in a relationship is not good.“

“Defy those rules!”

“We can’t defy rules just as we please, Loki. You may be a deity, but you still can’t do what you want in this world.”

Inside Tom’s head, Loki grumbled in protest only to be silenced by Tom clearing his throat. Maintaining Loki was no easy task, but initially him and the deity were able to work together to finish productions. Overtime, the god and mortal grew closer to each other by means of literature and the adoration received from fans. Tom took the admiration as appreciation for all his work and that there really were kind souls in the world. Loki, on the other hand, took the fanbase as those who were born to kneel before his omnipotent self and willingly praised him like peasants to their king. However, you were an exception; you were mortal, yes and Loki was certain that love brought you to your knees, a typical weakness of everyone in existence. But you did not possess the spirit to kneel as many others have done prior. You were born to rule and walk the world with your head held high as a queen should and Loki accepted this, realizing you were not a fool. 

“Do you dare test me, Hiddleston?” Loki hissed lethally through Tom’s lips and Tom lowered his book.

“No. I know how you are,” Tom coaxed gently. “But I know more of this world than you do. I know its rules as to where you do not.”

“I know these mortals are weak and are born to kneel.” Loki spat.

“Possibly, but what else do you know regarding Earth?”

Loki fell silent. He did have a point and Tom smiled, returning the book pages to his line of vision. As he continued to read about Macbeth’s encounter with the witches, he heard Loki mumbling to himself from within regarding the stupidity of Earth and its rules. Arching an eyebrow, Tom allowed himself to sink into his grey couch, the furniture pulling him in as the book drowned him in the bard’s words. The grumbling seemed to fade after a while, causing Tom to focus on his reading better.

The surrounding, small study seemed nonexistent to Tom and the deity, blue walls towering over them like the sky as bookshelves stacked high to the ceiling. Tom didn’t need a lavish study, but something quaint but comfortable to suit his needs. He was a rather cozy man who liked everything inviting and warm. So much so, that he had a functional fireplace installed into the study where you and him curled up on chilly nights. From the corner of his eye, the empty mantle served fond memories of nights where you snuggled up in his arms on the soft rug before the fireplace. There, you spoke softly to each other, whispering terms of endearment while sipping some warm beverage, mostly hot chocolate or tea, whatever you fancied. Sometimes you even fell asleep in his arms and he allowed you to, either falling asleep himself or carrying you to the guest room.

An entire bookshelf was devoted to all of Shakespeare’s works, including some rare pieces. The rest of the bookshelves were filled to the brim with various other authors such as Mallory, Bradbury, and so many others. You had seen this study before and swooned at the amount of books Tom had and swore that he could have opened a library if he so desired. You enjoyed nearly every single book in existence, from modern stories to the very bard himself. Tom was content that you liked Shakespeare and fanboyed over the deceased writer ridiculously. You loved it when he gushed about his favorite literary icon and swore that he was a thousand times cuter when he spoke nonstop of the man.

Reaching over for his tea, he sipped it carefully as to not spill anything on his pajama shirt. The earl grey tea warmed his body, causing his lips to curl into a sliver of a smile. Loki had grown accustomed to tea and found the beverage smooth with flavor. He was particularly fond of his bitter teas, though he could cope with Tom’s taste. However, he hated the sweet things and often ushered Tom away from them. 

Fresh dahlias and lilies adorned a coffee table in the room. The scent of blossoms was something Tom always adored and believed that flowers should be given to anyone as long as it made their day better. Sometimes, people bought flowers for themselves for no reason and Tom was no exception. Every so often, Tom would go down to the local florist and buy himself a little bouquet, just to brighten his home. The florists knew him by name because of how much he visited the little place, but swore on his life that they had some of the best blossoms he had ever seen. 

“What would you consider a few days?” Loki spoke once more and Tom smirked.

“Perhaps the weekend, I think she’s off then or gets out early.”

“I want to escort her to an excellent dining area and not some menial café.” Loki spoke and Tom’s smirk melted into a coy smile, knowing that he could trust the deity to take you to a place Tom would.

Tom believed you deserved the best of the best and treated you as such. You knew his mannerisms of being a complete and utter gentleman. Loki, you knew only as a ruthless deity from Asgard, but your imagination crafted him to be a deviously seductive person based on fanfiction and fanart. Tom knew how he treated you was based off his upbringing through family and literature. From what Tom knew of Loki’s treatment, he was uncertain. He resided in Loki’s subconscious and watched you speak with him earlier this day. He appeared to be ready to answer your questions without hesitation which put Tom at ease. Tom was the same way regarding this situation and knew that you were still formulating questions now and probably many more down the road of this relationship. Him and Loki would take those inquiries without a beat and answer them as collectively and logically as possible.

“Is there not a place in the center of town where a lounge breathes with dim lighting and dark walls adorned with art?”

“Please be more specific.” Tom sat up and sipped his earl grey, breaking from his book and roaming to the empty mantle. Loki growled softly in irritation.

“It was where you and Stark shared some beverages after the filming of ‘The Avengers’. I believe….it was called….The Black Canary. Yes, that is it.”

“Well,” Tom started as he gazed at a picture of you and him with your arms around each other at Disneyland. 

Tom had taken you there after the filming of “Thor” and replicated a Disney date night that you’ve only read about on the Internet. He wore a dapper cobalt suit in the summer and you wore a dress with a skirt that seemingly frilled every time you moved, thus making you feel like a princess. You danced on the River Boat, you walked through the park beneath the starlight, you rode attractions under the moon, and you swore that Tom was a prince and to know that he was yours made you smile brightly, just like in the photograph. Tom grinned, remembering that night all too well and how at one point you were being complimented by everyone. They had stopped for pictures with Tom and noticed your dress and how lovely it made you. You swore some were green with envy, to be beautiful and have a man like Tom Hiddleston on your arm, but after all this time you had grown used to it, and weren’t bothered by it. 

“She’s not really a lounge type, but she is open-minded to new experiences.”

“That is all I need.” Loki responded coolly.

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The weekend had approached rather rapidly with Tom informing you that Loki was escorting you on this date. You were ready with a few pages of questions complete with answering spaces and a dress to boot. Where you were going, you had no idea. He said Loki wanted to keep it a surprise (despite the fact that Tom very well knew where you two were going) and that he wanted to have a rather enjoyable evening with you. The passing days you anticipated the end of the week, just waiting to see what was in store. When Saturday emerged, you cursed the clocks for going so slowly in your apartment. Tom said Loki would grab you around six, but at four thirty you were already getting ready. Shower, wash your hair, prepare the purse, and for a while you just reclined in a robe knowing it would take only ten minutes to throw your outfit on and fix your face.

Six o clock was ushered in with the knocking of the door and you calmly approached the sound. Opening the door, you had to restrain your eyes from widening as you stared at the man before you. Cloaked in a dark, forest shaded blouse with ebony pants and jacket trimmed in gold, Loki was a sight to behold. A tie of gold was wound about his neck and his shoes reflected the color as you wondered if that was actual gold. Swallowing hard, those emerald orbs watched you as you tried to keep your jaw from dropping to the collar of your dress. Loki smirked, knowing he had made a wondrous impression on you which was better than your lunch date with him.

Offering you his arm, Loki flashed a coy smile as you felt your heart plunge into your toes.

“Shall we be off?” Was all he asked and you were his’.


	6. Fire, Fire

Royalty wasn’t always meant to walk like a lieutenant on a battle field, but rather take a carriage or in the case of Earth, a cab. Loki was accustomed to taking cabs and avoiding paying for them by means of hypnotism. Tom was usually against this tactic, let alone most of the time when Loki used his powers to manipulate the situation. However, there were some exceptions Tom would understand and agree with, like the night at The Tangerine Spine. Getting reservations there, even for someone like himself was about as hard as finding water in a desert. He knew he had to do something about that and Loki was more than content to oblige, especially for your affection and satisfaction.

The cab ride into downtown was met with streetlights guiding them down the central boulevards. Shops were fruitful with customers and window displays, some too gaudy for Loki’s taste as he sneered at them. Others were easy on the eyes; simplicity made him smirk, appreciating people who designed with good taste and knew not to overindulge in opulence. People crossed the street without warning and traffic bubbled and brewed, though Loki was accustomed to this and watched you from the corner of his eye. Staring into the window displays, you window shopped from afar. This town was far too rich for you and yet your parents could afford it. Sometimes you would splurge on some fancy shoes after your bills were settled. Other days you would save up for something else your heart desired like a video game or a collector’s item from a fandom you adored. It was rewards like those that made you smile in content in knowing that you saved up and worked for what you wanted. Other times, you would save for something you needed like a new laptop. You had a savings account for emergencies and knew not to dabble with that account unless you were depositing money into it. You were intelligent and Loki adored this about you, as well as Tom.

You were ravishing this evening as you were any other day, but dressed up like a woman who knew her worth in the world, and how high she held herself was something that expressed confidence. Confidence was what drew Loki to you like a shivering child to a warm fire. You knew that you were no better than anyone else, but you still believed you held some value of someone who deserved to be treated with respect. You walked as though you owned the world while keeping a positive, but humble attitude about yourself. Tom enjoyed that about you and it made you different compared to other women (especially celebrities) who walked around like their perfume didn’t smell. He loathed snobby, superficial women and wanted someone more real. Why he left the Hollywood dating scene and had the utmost of fortune upon finding you. Loki was fond of those who carried a deceptive air, but knew to be wary of them and that a relationship with them would be unsuitable. They could very well betray him for all he knew and he was not eager to receive such a backstabbing, especially from someone he could very well love.

The cab came to a stop before a narrow building with gothic architecture that burst through the brightly colored buildings of cyan and orange. It was a place that seemed almost foreign despite the fact that everything here fit in some way or another. Dim candle lights tried to peek through the slightly tinted windows as a vibrant saffron line traced a shape of what appeared to be a canary. Beneath the form rested the words in an elegant cursive,’ The Black Canary’. The door was ajar, allowing music to tumble forth. The notes were of someone crooning a song about heartache and lovesickness for someone who would never reciprocate the romantic feelings. They belonged to a woman who had walked down the boulevards of admiration with no hope in sight and had endured enough divorces to swallow bittersweet memories and recall fond and horrible times with her spouses.

As you left the cab, Loki leaned over and locked eyes with the cabbie. The driver fell beneath the deity’s hypnotic gaze with those swirling, lethal emerald orbs. The man had no idea who or what he was escorting and as Loki mumbled something beneath his breath, the driver seemed to fall back into his seat, spellbound by the god. Loki grinned and pulled back from the man, releasing him from his hold. The driver bid Loki a good night and Loki watched as the cab took off into the streets, never looking back or questioning what had just occurred.

“What’d you do?”You asked quietly.

“Well, did you notice that we did not have to pay the fare?” Loki spoke coyly and you felt your jaw drop slightly. This was definitely not Tom and you knew this without a doubt. Tom would have paid the fare, right? You wondered now and either way, it wouldn’t surprise you. If the opportunity was there, then it would be best to take it.

“Yes.” You smirked and Loki offered you his arm, leading you into The Black Canary. 

Upon entering the lounge, men and women in fine attire similar to yours and Loki’s were enjoying dinner on ebony table cloths of silk. Refurbished antique furniture hid beneath the cloths and rested alongside a well polished bar. Glasses and bottles shined behind the bar like diamonds glimmering in a jewelry case. A barkeep clad in a proper attire with a yellow ascot around his neck noticed you at the door and nodded a silent welcome to you. The bar seated a few men who whispered to each other while a dark skinned woman in a shimmery black dress crooned on stage. Her voice filled the room and seemed to touch everyone who ate and often glanced her way. In her gloved hands rested an old microphone from when the world was still learning as well as its people. It was a struggling time of iconic fashion and you smiled, knowing that the microphone looked like something Elvis would use. Thick and fat metal was only a few mere inches away from her lilac tinted lips. The silver sheen on the instrument made her ivory eye shadow pop and her doe like eyes appear to be made of fire. 

Fine art adorned dark shaded walls as you were unable to discern the color, though your brain believed it was indigo. Little black canaries flew along the border, disappearing behind the heads of patrons, doors to the restrooms, and paintings. Most of the art appeared to be gothic with some oil paintings of birds, though probably canaries given the lounge’s title. In the corner of the dining area a tall, golden bird cage stood with no bird inside. It was a myth that Loki had heard before about this lounge, that the black canary had flown away in search of a better life, and that it would someday return to this place. Loki smirked softly, knowing not to believe all fables and myths. He was sure you had heard the legend of the black canary that used to swing and sing in that golden cage. He knew you lived here long enough to know the ins and outs of places, but perhaps he would bring it up over dinner to make you smile.

A hostess in black led you both to the only empty table open which was in the center of the room. Not too far from the singer and the bar. The clinking of glasses seemed to match her tempo as you and Loki took a seat. An ivory candle lined with black canaries flying up and around the wax spire rested between you and your date. The fire’s glow brought out the mischievousness hidden beneath Loki’s emerald orbs and you watched as the flame danced. 

Your relationship was a fire, it grew before but now it grew exponentially given the secret you had been told. You swore it transformed from a little candle flame into something more extraordinary and new, burning brightly. The relationship did not falter from this new secret but rather it exposed you and your partner; you had questions as well as Tom and possibly Loki. They were fuel to the fire that would incinerate doubt and worry, though obstacles could still be met. You were not concerned about whatever blocked your path and took comfort in knowing that you could overcome anything. You and Tom had triumphed and comprised over obstacles before in your relationship and now that Loki made himself present, you were sure that everything would be all right. Albeit, there would be some differences, but how significant they would be you did not know.

Loki ordered a steak nearly rare and internally Tom cringed, having his preferred well. He had had steak rare before and he detested the taste of blood between his lips. You requested a lobster tail and Loki smirked, knowing you had good taste, but even so far as to what you ate? That made his heart pound in pure appreciation in knowing he had such a good woman by his side. 

As you sat at your table, your eyes traveled about the location and smiling, it reminded you of a gothic speakeasy from an era long past. Speakeasys were popular in the roaring 20s, a decade you enjoyed for its taste in fashion. While you did not consider yourself the type to wear those sorts of garments, you still admired the attention to detail and unique style that could only be found during that time. Tom probably knew of that era and Loki was – what did Loki know of Earth let alone its history now that you thought about it. He had spent most of his life (that you knew of) on Asgard and he had merged with Tom’s body when studying for “Thor” which only seemed like a few years ago.

“Has Tom taught you anything about this world?” You asked softly and Loki drew his attention from the singer to you.

“Such as?”

“Its history, different cultures, literature, anything really.”

Loki reclined in his chair, thinking of everything Tom had educated him on and what he easily picked up. Through reading and Tom’s research and knowledge of the world, he was quickly able to understand how Earth did things much differently than Asgard. He absorbed the education like a sponge and found he had rather adored some of the things humans did. Driving for example, was one of them. While Tom was a cautious driver, Loki was far from. The throb of the engine, the rattling of the gas pedal beneath his foot, it was quite the exhilaration. 

He learned of other people through mere observation. Loki’s eye was keen and could instantly detect when someone was dark and sinister in ways he did not like. He especially abhorred rapists and those who refused to understand the word ‘no’ and assaulted women without a care in the world. In knowing that this world had villains like those, he knew to keep an eye out for you. Although he knew you could very well defend yourself from mostly anything, the thought of someone violating you made his heart turn to ice in pure rage. That emotion would be locked in his heart until it was quelled by a swift kick or punch or perhaps, other means that no one else on this planet knew. He would make anyone pay for harming you and he believed Tom would allow him to carry out his actions.

“Tom has taught me the ways of your species. We share common interests in literature and he has instructed me on the methods of your society. I must say, this world is rather menial, but strange.”

“Well….Earth is strange, just like life,” you agreed with him, in knowing the weird ways of this planet and how some days were kind but others were cruel, much like its people. It was incredible, the human race would be so wicked towards each other at times and yet they could easily come together and craft something as abnormal as chocolate beer. 

“It is indeed. Tell me, (_), what do you think of Shakespeare?”

You automatically knew this was going to be a wonderful date as you felt a grin spread across your face.


	7. The Disturbed Canary

You spoke of Shakespeare and other authors who you never heard of, but Loki thoroughly enjoyed. He found his way into your heart by means of books and literary pieces that you both heavily enjoyed or barely knew. Some writers were of this world, others were from Asgard and Jotunheim, crafting myths and stories you never imagined. Your conversation, although softly spoken seemed to override the singer’s powerhouse tones that sometimes wavered into the blues, and returning to romantic pieces or songs with no meaning other than entertainment. You swore that The Black Canary was as quiet as a dormant volcano and that nothing else was heard, but your conversation.

You almost forgot what you had exactly ordered, too wrapped up in this wondrous night with Loki. So when the waitress presented you with the lobster tail and Loki, the rare steak, you laughed to yourself. How you had forgotten something that seemed like it only happened five minutes or so ago because of the great conversation you were having. Something like that hadn’t happened since you and Tom first started having lunch on your break. You remembered that day all too well; Tom spellbound you with his love of the written word and how Shakespeare was universal and was never meant to be used as a definer of class. Of how words were powerful and how they could ensnare the soul, capture the heart, make grown adults crumble and cry, and children dream. You had never met such a celebrity who cared and adored literature so much and it drew you to him like a child to Christmas morn. Your conversation that day of words and their power over the human mind carried on for what seemed like hours; so much so that you were late returning to your shift by a half hour. When you made it back, your boss was seething with anger and frustration and immediately, but privately set out to scold you for such tardiness. To make matters worse, it was incredibly busy that day and so when you entered the store, your boss charged at you like a bull. Only when Tom rushed in because you had forgotten your badge in his car, your boss seemed to loosen up, and listen to your explanation as well as Tom’s. You were given a warning that day at best and you couldn’t be more thankful for just that. 

You were having such a lovely time between the excellent dinner and conversation with Loki that you didn’t even notice the waitress slide up to your table. 

“Excuse me, miss?” The waitress spoke over the singer’s belting notes and broke through your words. “But a gentleman at the bar sent this over to you.”

From her silver tray emerged a martini and sighing to yourself, you knew the gentleman’s implications and what was to follow. Even Loki glared at the drink as though it were made of sparkling cyanide and you did your best to not turn around and see who was offering you the drink. When you had entered The Black Canary, there were only a few men at the bar, both appearing as wealthy businessmen complete with suits that bulged against their chubby, mid fifty bodies. Those men probably had everything in the world except for a wife because chances were that they valued money over humans, having gotten to where they were because of that belief. It was a terrible belief and it sickened you to know that people would put objects before lives and love.

“It’s a nice gesture,” you started, uncertain of how to exactly word your answer without sounding rude. “But I refuse to accept it. I’m not really a drinker.”

The waitress nodded with stoicism in her composure, but weariness in her eyes, knowing how many times situations like this had unraveled. Returning the drink to the bar and while Loki ate his steak and Tom secretly cringed with every bite, his eyes watched the bar before him. The bartender and waitress’ lips moved as a man interjected on the conversation. He must have been new, Loki hadn’t seen him before when you two entered The Black Canary. Loki was too focused on you to notice anyone else in the room, causing his guard to drop, and he quietly cursed himself for letting such a thing occur. His guard was always to be raised especially in public, knowing the deceptive nature of idiotic humans. Some were cunning, he knew this all too well, but you were not spiteful or sly as those who walked this world and for this, he was grateful and content. 

Continuing to watch the bar, the gentleman who had interrupted the workers’ conversation was rather slender, clad in a business suit, and appeared as though he had just gotten off work. His loosened tie and wrinkled shirt spilled over the sides of his pants, his blazer doing its best to hide the wrinkles on his ivory satin shirt. His frame was lax yet swaying some and Loki believed he had one or two in him by now. He had probably obtained his “confidence” through alcohol, increasing his belief that he had already owned the world with whatever corporation he owned or whatever status he retained. His consumption of alcohol probably boosted his ideal that he could have anything he so desired in this world – including you. Loki watched the waitress’ shoulders droop as she sighed and returned them to a strictly linear position, her spine rigid with professionalism. The clicking of her heels seemed to keep in time with the singer’s crooning as she approached your table once more, Loki glaring at the man who now watched you from the bar. Bags hung beneath his eyes like achievements for his late night parties, his long hours at the office, his earned degree in some probable Ivy League or state college. Those bags gave way to glossy hazel eyes that seemingly darkened and narrowed at the mere sight of Loki, believing the deity to be his competition for your company.

“Miss,” the waitress spoke to you once more and you cringed at her voice filled with seriousness that reminded you of a school teacher.

“The gentleman insists that you take this beverage.”

Sighing to yourself, you looked at the waitress with sympathetic eyes and in that moment, her orbs dilated, as though grasping for hope that you understood the situation at hand. Glancing at her badge, you saw her name was Katherine and you suddenly felt bad for not remembering that name from the beginning of the dinner. She was a nice woman so far, about your age with her ashy blonde tied tightly in a bun, probably a job requirement. There was a red bump poking through her make up on her left cheek and you knew that pain all too well of trying to hide acne especially for something important like a date or job. She too, had bags beneath her eyes of all the late hours worked here and of all the times older men flirted with her or catcalled her while slurring stories about their companies’ stocks. 

“Katherine?” You spoke softly and she focused on you, having been called her name. “I understand you’re doing your job and you’re doing a great job so far, but I really don’t want that drink.”

“WHY NOT?!” A surly, sluggish voice roared from behind you, causing the singer to fall silent and all eyes to dart between the inebriated gentleman and you. You dared not look back, it would give the man all the more reason to see your beauty, and pursue you even further. As far as you and Loki were concerned, the man had only seen the back of your head, and possibly the side of your face. Loki’s eyes narrowed at the man and in return, the man glared at him, wanting Loki to be gone from the equation so he could fill his spot, and socialize with you.

The air in the restaurant was cut through with tension like a knife through skin. The singer stopped her song and all eyes fell on you and something stirred in your stomach that you hadn’t felt before. It cramped your digestive organ and clutched your heart in a vice grip so tight that you forgot to breathe. With every stare something curled up in discomfort within you, causing your cheeks to turn a rather dark shade of red. Your eyes darted about the dark room, seeking solace through the candlelight and the artwork on the wall, not even its painted subjects could offer you any aid. You looked at people, searching for sympathy, knowing you would receive none, and returning your gaze to Loki, you had forgotten to breathe once you saw his dark, inhuman stare. While you knew it wasn’t directed toward you, you still knew who that glare belonged to. You could feel the drunken man, glaring at the back of your skull in anger that you had protested again and again at his offer. Not knowing what he would do, you only hoped that Loki would step in should things go awry. The waitress stared blankly ahead, making a silent Morse Code message with the singer on stage who briefly vanished behind the curtains. Shoulders tense just as yours were, you wondered if her heart was as pounding as loudly as yours was or if her palms were growing sweaty like yours and if her entire body was about as uncomfortable as yours was. Bowing your head, you tried to seek solace in your half eaten lobster tail and suddenly you wished you were the dish: motionless, free from any humiliating situations such as this, and completely painless.

The sound of a falling bar stool made your head dart up, looking at Loki, trying to see the reflection of the stranger in his eyes. When there was none, shuffling footsteps found their way to your ear and the very noise raced down your spine, knowing full well what would happen next. Your fingernails dug into the napkin at your lap and you contemplated reaching for the knife. You would be charged for assault, possibly thrown into jail, possibly busted out by your parents or Tom, lose your job, have a hard time finding a new job, and every other woe that would follow should you attempt to defend yourself with a buttered up knife. You couldn’t run, there was nowhere to run to. It would seem more than likely the man would follow you and you would find yourself trapped at some point, given the small space of The Black Canary. You were a sitting duck of discomfort and you cringed with every footstep that seemed to be drawing nearer and nearer and near-

You swore what had happened next was quicker than a cheetah running through the savanna. Just as you shut your eyes, ready to endure what would occur next, Loki had raced to your side, and grabbed the man by his wrists before he could firmly, forcefully grasp your hair and hand. You heard the man cry out in surprise and pain as Loki’s nails dug into his skin, leaving crimson marks where they burrowed beneath this flesh. The waitress, bound by shock watched the scene unravel before her, just like the other patrons. The singer had appeared with the manager, a portly man in his early sixties with an ivory comb over and a rather adoring taste for the shade of indigo as evident in his formal attire. 

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Loki’s voice was as lethal as a thousand daggers soaked in venom and plunged into the blood stream. His words like his voice were cold, his Jotun nature seeping into his tone and almost paralyzing the man with his message. The man’s fingers wriggled wildly, desperate to free himself from the grasp of the deity. His body swayed more wildly than before with the need to escape Loki’s presence and grip combined with the few whiskies he had already drank before this situation arose. 

“Get off me!” The man roared in his drunken tone and hiccupped, causing irritation to unfurl in his grimace.

“It would be best,” Loki started, tightening his grasp and flashing his eyes to a dangerous shade of green, he locked eyes with the man. 

You were too frightful to watch what was happening, staring vacantly at the empty seat across the way from you. To think that only a few moments ago, you and Loki were enjoying a conversation, but in life, good moments were sometimes tainted with something bad. Tonight was no exception and yet you knew this situation should not affect your meal or your overall date with Loki. By no means was it his fault and rather, you would be grateful for him defending you. You would thank him in every way possible while trying to shake off the trembling that resounded throughout your body.

“For you to never ever approach her or me again wherever you may roam.” Loki continued his demand, watching the man’s eyes change from glassy hazel to sober blue. 

The man’s narrowed eyes slowly grew to the size of the moon, taking in Loki’s command and without hesitation, willingly accepting it as though it was an instruction his brain was born with. Loki released the man, his eyes never leaving him. All eyes fell upon the man who now stared at Loki as though he was his only hope for survival and living. Loki gritted his teeth, annoyance flowing throughout his frame that a mere menial moron had ruined his evening with you. Knowing that he could rescue you from this situation made him feel more comfortable about himself and relax some, taking solace in that you were safe. Though his shoulders were still as straight as a line (much like the waitress’, the manager’s, and everyone else in the restaurant who waited with bated breath at the hypnotized man’s actions), he knew his irritation was nothing when compared to what you were possibly feeling. He would have to do something to make you feel better, to reassure you that you would be all right and safe with him, and to make your nerves less rattled and more calm. 

The now blue eyed drunkard blinked and Loki removed the spell from him, causing the man to swiftly look around. He was shaken, but from what he did not know. All he knew was that he had to leave immediately and never ever see Loki or you again. His mind was fresh with what you and he looked like and in knowing your appearances, he took them as future warnings to stay clear from. His feet carried him out the door as though he had murdered someone and needed to get far away from the crime scene as soon as possible. The tension slowly slithered through the crack at the bottom of the door, but it wasn’t enough to stop you from looking at Loki’s chair and wondering what would have happened if you had taken that drink.


	8. Reassurance

You couldn’t recall how long you stared at the door where the drunkard fumbled out, still dazed from Loki’s spell. The silence seemed to suffocate you within The Black Canary and for once, you felt incredibly small. Meaningless, as though you were nothing more than a blot on this planet that outsized you by thousands and thousands of inches. Your eyes darted to your lap, uncertain of where else to look. You could feel Loki’s gaze upon you and while he was a very dominant person, this stare was not. You swore it was Tom poking through those eyes and watching you with concern – like a parent observing their child, studying them to read them properly without mistranslations. Internally, Tom bit his lip, knowing what he would do were it him sitting before you. Instead, there was Loki. Loki, Loki, Loki. Loki the dominant, logical, and cold deity who had only gained the love of Frigga in his mythological lifetime. He had never been with a woman romantically, although he did watch Tom at times flirt and generally act like a gentleman towards women. He had never seen Tom console anyone though other than you. In his head he attempted to recall those times of when Tom would comfort you in distressing hours such as this.

“Comfort her!” Tom worriedly whispered into Loki’s skull and Loki’s eyes widened.

“How?” Loki whispered in return and Tom allowed patience to enfold his subconscious. 

Tom knew he would have to be patient with Loki. Both men had their differences – as to where Loki was a demanding, dominant force Tom was gentle. Tom could be assertive and dominant if he so desired, but only if the situation called for it. He supposed he gained those attributes from Loki and he felt as though it had helped him in some fashion. Now it was a matter of shifting Loki from such a powerful being into a gentle soul by means of communication and so Tom took a deep breath. Hopefully, his advice would help. He knew Loki to be a stubborn god who needed everything as he believed it should be. He was a bit controlling, but Tom had reduced some of that control – reminding him of where he was, who he was on Earth, and why Tom would never allow him to attempt to do anything catastrophic. Tom would though, tell him the ways of how to properly comfort someone, namely you.

“Speak softly, don’t be harsh. Rather, show her you care through simple, calming words.”

Loki’s dictionary was as vast as the universe and knew of words to soothe your soul from any distress that rattled your brain. Looking over you with soft eyes, he felt something stir within. Something strange and almost warm stirred the deity’s heart . His eyes darted about The Black Canary and with every glance at onlookers’ eyes, their orbs looked away, too ashamed of being captured in doing something that brought you humiliation. The last thing you needed now more than ever was more embarrassment brought on by other people who were probably gossiping about the situation at their tables. You swore you could hear their hushed conversations and only then did you feel your shoulders slump greatly as though someone had attached anvils to them. To call them out on their gossip would further humiliate you and Loki sneered at the humans surrounding your table.

The room seemed to fall away from his view, swallowed by the darkness of the restaurant and how his focus shifted from the other customers to you. You sat alone in a table for two, fingers wringing the napkin uncertain of how to react. Discomfort radiated off of you like perfume and Loki took his eyes off of you for one moment. Searching his brain he attempted to construct soothing sentences from his knowledge and his dictionary. Not too formal, not too casual, speak soft, not gruff, be simple, be gentle, be gentlemanly, be princely – yes, Loki was a prince. He was a Jotunheim prince to rule the throne of Asgard, but now was not the time to remind him of his status. However, he did embody qualities that women wanted and somewhere in his deep dominant core rested a gentle prince waiting to be brought to life. Already he had exhibited some polite mannerisms towards you and you accepted them with a smile and a pounding in your heart. Now was the time to further those princely manners and clearing his throat quietly, he gazed upon you with kind eyes. The candlelight around you seemed to brighten, as though you were the only person that mattered in The Black Canary.

“(_),” Loki spoke with concern and your heart was jolted from its panicky state. “Are you all right?” His whisper was surprisingly soft – like the first scoopful of snow.

Looking up, you locked eyes with him and through those frozen orbs you saw a deity who could do more than bring a nation to its knees, conjure illusions, and spin lies with his silver tongue. You saw someone capable of emotion, able to care, and possibly, even love. Your heart was lodged in your throat from the situation that had passed and Loki, quietly examined your frame, searching for some sign of reassurance that you were all right. Something about those caring eyes caused a sliver of a smile to creep onto your face, recognizing that he had cared about you. Not just him, but Tom as well. Although this wasn’t Tom before you, it made you smile to know that such a deity like Loki would care about someone like you.

You were taught at a very young age that when someone cared about you, that’s when feelings started to bloom. These feelings could take the road of friendship, wander down the streets of love, or stroll down the avenues of mutuality and respect. By now, Loki was accustomed to you – having resided within Tom’s conscious all this time and seeing you and how you acted. But to actually be with you as he was now was a dog of a different breed. He was no longer playing second fiddle or watch from the shadows as Tom held you in his arms while slow dancing to the blues in the living room on a balmy summer day. He was now crafting his own relationship with you and crafting it into something hopefully successful.

You nodded slowly, absorbing Loki’s tenderness. The fear that trembled under your skin seemingly died down some and you swallowed any discomfort that lodged in your throat. Your nerves jittered some like flies trying to walk after being shaken in a glass jar, your fingers still tightly gripping the napkin in your lap. Your eyes fell to the food on your plate and while there wasn’t much left, you hated to see a good meal go to waste. The hunger within had subsided by way of the drunk and what you had already eaten. You hate to let good food go to waste as the guilt began to creep up on you. From your view, you watched as Loki returned to his seat across the table and offer you his hands. His pale fingers stretched from his thin palm and you knew that beneath that flesh rested the powers of ice and illusion. Those hands were far more destructive and creative than your hands which twitched in your lap, sending shivers up your arms and shoulders. You swore you could feel the chill off them as you slowly inched your fingertips toward his’. Loki’s eyes watched with patience, his heart thrumming like an angered snare drum that wanted to be properly played. He knew he could not rush things, especially you or a relationship.

Your fingers crawled along the dark table cloth, jittery ivory moths in the night sky. Scurrying their way across the table, your eyes dared not look up to meet Loki’s but you could feel his easy gaze on you. You swore the room grew hotter and you weren’t sure how and you swore that you heard the buzzing of patrons’ words. Shaking your head slightly to focus your attention on Loki, you bit your lower lip. You weren’t sure how strong Loki’s spells were and yet you wondered if it would hold on him. What if he walked past by you when Loki wasn’t around would he do anything chaotic? You had only seen Loki’s powers in the movies and while they seemed potent, you could feel the doubt-

You felt something at your hands. The impact of his fingers made your heart lessen its pounding and the thoughts in your head seemingly vanish. Sharply looking up, you saw that Loki clasped his hands in yours. Cold fingers laced with your sweaty palms. The buzzing of the words fell to silence and was replaced with the clinking of utensils and glasses and footsteps and Loki’s breathing. His breathing was smooth as a freshly ice laden lake, just like his body. His shoulders and body held itself in comfort, like how snow splayed itself on the ground and hills. 

Tom fell to silence, stunned by Loki’s sudden brashness and boldness to hold your hands in comfort. Though Tom had done something similar before, but instead of reaching for your hands it was a tight embrace. Here, Loki could not perform that action and plus he did not want to pressure you into such close contact – only when you were ready. Your heart beat like rain pitter pattering on a tin roof and your eyes watched Loki, pupils often glancing down at your hands and how he tightened the hold to reassure you that by no means was he leaving.

“Would you like to leave? We can do so, if you desire.” Loki asked kindly. He would by no means be angered if you chose to leave, having enjoyed what he could of his steak. Besides, you were far more important in this moment.

You nodded slowly once more and the manager came bustling over to the table, his portly weight shaking about like a bowl of freshly made Jell-o. Worry cloaked his face like a veil as beads of sweat clustered around his temples. Having watched you and having grown accustomed to reading customers’ lips in the restaurant business, he knew what you two were talking about. Eavesdropping became a second nature for him in this business and by no means was he ashamed. Other people had done it, so why not someone who was trying to run a business efficiently and provide the customer with everything they so desired? 

“Yes, sir, is there anything I can do for you?” The manager spoke.

“We wish to leave.” Loki responded in a firm, but kind tone not wanting to cause any further humiliation.

“Very well then, given what occurred tonight your meal is free. Please, give me a few moments and allow me to retrieve a complimentary dessert for you and your partner as a way of apologizing for the unexpected event.”

Free dessert? That was definitely a good thing. Your hands gripped Loki’s and he looked at you – a little sliver of a smile had crawled onto your face. He had forgotten how much of a sweet tooth you had and in knowing this, he graciously accepted the offer. It didn’t take too long for the manager to return with two little black bags with a yellow outline bearing the restaurant’s name and logo. Inside were a few miniature boxes and while you hadn’t glanced at the dessert menu, you knew these little treats would hopefully be as delicious as your meal was.

Taking the cab back home, you didn’t want to interact with those who walked the street for pleasure or business or merely for a casual stroll in the dark. You didn’t want to feel the leering eyes of strangers on you as you walked the short distance from your home to the downtown section. Even in the cab, you were still getting over the effects of the drunkard’s outburst, but Loki never released your hand. From time to time, he would squeeze your palm gently to remind you that he was there for you. While you wouldn’t speak in the cab (not wanting the cabbie to know your business even if it was for a brief drive), you were calmed in the least by Loki’s presence and constant assurance.

When you reached your apartment, Loki went to bid you a fond farewell. At this point, you realized that the date was coming to an end. Your first date with Loki was fantastic, but with the drunkard’s intervening actions you couldn’t help but believe that that had ruined the outing some, causing you to be exposed to anxiety and fear and doubt. You wondered what would have happened if you were braver and more comfortable to stay at the restaurant after the man was cast away by Loki’s spell. You questioned what would have come about if you had the confidence to swallow that shake up and continue the night as if that never happened. You could feel your gut sink into your shoes at the possibilities and your lower lip to be bitten down on by your teeth. Your brain frazzled and frizzled, trying to accept the reality as it had occurred – you were shaken up by the endeavor, nothing could deter you from it other than Loki’s reassuring hand. 

“I will take my leave now. Perhaps, I shall see you aga-“

“No…stay a while, please.” Your voice was small, like a child asking for something important for Christmas. Loki’s eyes widened at such a voice emerging from your mouth, but merely nodded. It would be rude of him to leave your side, not when you asked of something like this from him especially after what had happened.

In society, that term would have meant that something was going to happen. Something sexy, and while Loki did not know the implications of a phrase like that, Tom very well understood it. Tom knew you were not in the mood for anything sexual (come to think of it, you hadn’t breached that boundary yet and by no means were Tom and/or Loki in any rush). Tom did understand what you meant by this phrase and knew that Loki would understand as well. 

Leading him into your apartment, you placed your desserts in the refridgerator until they were ready to be eaten. You invited Loki to take a seat on your couch, to make himself at home while you slipped into something more comfortable. You wanted to be out of those clothes that reminded you of that drunkard and what he could have done were Loki not there. Throwing the dress onto the floor, your eyes caught your reflection in the bureau mirror. What was wrong with you, you couldn’t comprehend. You were a confident being and how one man could shatter it by merely being a self-entitled drunk was baffling. You had encountered worse at your job and yet none of those situations had effected you. But this, this was something that puzzled your brain. In return, it caused you to appear weak before a deity, before someone you were trying so hard to understand and get to know better. You weren’t supposed to look weak for him – not on your first date anyway. Later on, like with Tom, it would be okay, but the first date? It seemed almost unacceptable. Then again, it also seemed incredibly unacceptable for your date to see you in your pajamas. You really began to wonder who you were and who you had grown into. Years ago, you would never allow a first date to see you in your pajamas, now here you were dressed as though you were ready for bed.

Emerging from your bedroom, Loki’s eyes glimmered with confusion and slowly his pupils rose to meet your tired stare. Not once did he move from his place on the couch like a rooted house cat and he watched as you made your way towards him. Step by step, he was uncertain of what you had in mind. By no means were you in the mood for anything sexual, Tom and Loki knew this all too well. But Tom knew what you were doing and smiled to himself. He would allow this to unravel, knowing when to step in should Loki need any advice from him. He knew Loki could handle himself on this…..or so he hoped. 

“Could you just….stay here for a bit?”

You had asked meekly and Loki complied with a nod. Taking a seat next to Loki, you flickered on the tv and relaxed into the couch. Loki remained sitting upright and proper as he was taught in the past. He was uncertain of your customs in this nature and what to do exactly. From the corner of his eye he noticed how your hand rested a mere centimeter away from his, wanting to be held once more. You were closer to him more now than you were the cab drive to and from and even The Black Canary. Were it a form of needing some comfort from you experience tonight or simply wanting to further the relationship, Loki did not know. Reading you was like trying to read an agitated cat that didn’t know what it wanted. Regardless, he knew not to press any buttons or boundaries that would cause this falter and once more he took your hand in his hand, stroking the back of your palm and knuckles with his thumb.

“Is this…what you humans do?”

“Mm-hmm.” You answered softly, snuggled against the couch. 

“You should relax. I’m not going to bite or anything.” You joked and Loki allowed his muscles and body to slump into comfort. 

Relaxation was no stranger to him, but it had been so long since he was able to recline with someone that he had trusted or wasn’t Tom. He could feel his guard dropping and soon even found himself arm to arm with your frame. His hand broke from yours and soon found itself draped around your shoulder and reuniting with your hand once more. Smiling softly, you managed to get as close as humanly possible to the deity and snuggle with him as he rested his chin on your head. Neither of you cared what the television exposed and it wasn’t too long before you both fell asleep in each other’s company.


End file.
